


Made A Place to Sweat

by dedougal



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-17
Updated: 2013-06-17
Packaged: 2017-12-15 07:21:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/846855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dedougal/pseuds/dedougal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam was always finding out new things about his brother, and new things his brother would do for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Made A Place to Sweat

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2013 Spring Fling challenge on LJ. For tattooeddevil, whose prompt was "smoking kink"

Dean smoked for like a week when he was in high school. His leather jacket and fuck ‘em all attitude drew him into a crowd that, for the fact they didn’t live out of the back of an Impala, were as disaffected and against the system as he was. Sam remembered judging his big brother with a grade school righteous certainty that smoking was bad. He also remembered his dad beating seven hells out of Dean when he found out and then making Dean run until he wheezed and threw up.

Sam had smoked, pot mostly, while at Stanford. He’d kissed Ruby’s mouth when it stank of smoke and blood and not cared. He’d never seen Dean like this.

Dean was never ethereal. Not to Sam. Dean was home and heart, pragmatic to an extreme, solid. Wreathed in smoke, his eyes flashing as they caught in the flame as he leaned over the flickering lighter, shooting up to meet Sam’s shocked gaze. Then Dean leaned back, pursed his lips around the cigarette and drew breath, sucking Sam’s breath out with it. It wasn’t…Dean wasn’t pretty. He was handsome, masculine to an extreme. He wasn’t beautiful. But that was the word that came to Sam’s mind: beautiful. Then Dean exhaled, his mouth twisted into a new shape.

Sam thought he knew every inch of his brother. He knew his secrets (or, well, most of them). He knew Dean’s skin, every freckle, every scar. And he knew the way Dean’s mouth moved, tight with anger, abrupt with fear, slack with lust. He had never seen this.

Dean laughed at the girl who was trying to seduce him, easy, appearing interested to anyone who didn’t know him. But his eyes flicked to Sam whenever she looked away and Sam just kept looking at him. Dean took another drag, slow and deliberate, the red ember at the end a flag waving for Sam, sending a familiar flame through his blood, slow and sultry, heat intense and dark.

Dean obviously got the information he was looking for. He ground out the cigarette, made his excuses when a possessive arm snaked around his new friend’s waist and slipped out of the bar. Sam met him by the Impala.

“She thinks she saw our vic but she isn’t sure.” Dean rolled his head, cracked his neck. “And I think that’s enough research for tonight.”

Sam hmmed in agreement as he clambered into the car. “Stop past the gas station, would you?” 

“Midnight snacks? Grab me something?” Dean pulled out of the lot. Sam nodded, absently. He was certainly going to purchase something for Dean.

 

It was three days later before Sam got up the courage to pull the packet out of his pocket and offer it to Dean.

“Smokes, Sam? Something you want to talk about?” Dean didn’t look impressed. But then the fact Sam had made him pull over and drive the car down a forest track was probably setting off unpleasant alarm bells. 

Sam pulled out his lighter. “I want you to smoke one for me.”

“I thought people did that shit after they got laid. Not before.” Dean still took the packet, unwrapped the cellophane and tapped the box against the hood of the car before pulling out a slender cigarette. He raised an eyebrow at the way Sam shifted next to him, hunching over, hoping to hide the fact his cock was reacting to the very fact Dean was holding a cigarette. The post-hunt buzz, where everything had been clear-cut, simple and solvable, was still running through his veins and suddenly Sam didn’t want to wait. He wanted Dean to smoke, wreathe himself, ethereal, beautiful. And then Sam wanted to fuck him.

Dean smiled lazily around the cigarette as he lit it, tucking his lighter back into his pocket as he watched Sam squirm. He took a long drag before stretching out his hand. “Hold this for me, Sam.”

Sam took the cigarette, wet from Dean’s mouth and watched Dean shrug out of his coat, his shirts, peeling off his t-shirt almost casually. It wasn’t a tease. It was Dean and him and nothing else. Dean undid his belt and popped the buttons before reaching out for the cigarette again. And Sam couldn’t look away from the way Dean’s skin shone as it rose and full as he breathed in the smoke and then tipped his head back to let it out.

The ground was cold under Sam’s knees as he knelt between Dean’s legs, pawing at the open jeans. He wasn’t going to deny himself this. Dean was hard as he looks down at Sam and deliberately takes another deep drag. And Sam could do nothing but fumble himself out of his own pants one handed while he uses the other to hold Dean steady. He could smell the smoke of the cigarette, heavy in the fresh twilight. He could smell Dean as well, salty and a little sweaty from a long drive and he smells like home. It’s just a little different, a little sharper because of the smoking. 

Dean coolly smoked as Sam stopped fucking around and swallowed him down. He kept his eyes on Dean, unwilling to look away from the stretch of his body, the way his chest rose and fell. He was barely aware of the fact he was getting closer and closer. Instead he just focused on what Dean tasted, smelled, felt like. He came into his palm, spiraling apart suddenly and then Dean hauled him up, one hand fisted in Sam’s shirt. He smashed their mouths together and the smoke and fire and Dean made Sam shudder. His hand found Dean’s and together they bring him off, a familiar rhythm, fast, hard and damn good.

Sam ground out the cigarette under his boot when Dean dropped it after panting wetly at Sam’s neck.

“New kink, Sam?” Dean’s voice was still a little wrecked, harsh from the cigarette and Sam clung to him for a few more minutes, letting out a shaky laugh.

“Maybe.” Sam felt one side of his mouth tilt up in a grin. “Maybe just a kink for your mouth.”

“You say the sweetest things, buttercup.” Dean fluttered his eyelashes as he thumped Sam in the shoulder. “But let’s get to a motel and I’ll show you what else this mouth can do.”

Sam kissed Dean, mouth open and wet. It took a few more minutes for Dean to start getting dressed after that.

“And Sam?” Dean paused, hand flat on the Impala’s roof. “Keep the rest of the pack.”


End file.
